


Someone As Open and Brave

by deepfriedcynic



Category: Glee
Genre: Fluff, Friendship, M/M, Romance, Season 2 AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-04-18
Updated: 2012-04-23
Packaged: 2017-11-03 21:24:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/386117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deepfriedcynic/pseuds/deepfriedcynic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a <a href="http://glee-kink-meme.livejournal.com/28110.html?thread=33264590#t33264590">prompt</a> on the GKM. Sebastian comes to McKinley at the beginning of his Junior year, and he sees something he likes very much. Kurt is a bit more dubious. But only a bit. Alternate Season 2, starting with "Audition."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is essentially my Season 2 re-write ode to Kurt/Happiness and an excuse to flex my snark muscles. I'm not going to promise updates on any certain day because that almost always means they won't happen, but I'm writing as quickly as I can and I'm _not_ going to abandon it.
> 
> For anyone with Tumblr, updates will be linked on my blog there. My username is the same as it is here: [deepfriedcynic](http://deepfriedcynic.tumblr.com/).

The first time Kurt Hummel met the new kid, the latter was in the middle of what Kurt just knew was going to be an auspicious start to his career at McKinley High.

He was parked just two spaces from the dumpsters, a direct effect of arriving less than ten minutes before the bell, leaning against what Kurt figured was probably a newly purchased Lexus, arms crossed against his chest.  A quick once-over found that the guy was wearing two shirts, both undoubtedly from American Eagle or The Gap or somewhere else Kurt was likely never to shop and both with the collars popped, khakis that had almost definitely been ironed, a pair of brown loafers that were probably expensive but no less hideous for the price tag, and a sneer that twisted his lips as he looked at the building in front of him.

The small group of hockey players loitering at the dumpster, no doubt waiting to welcome Kurt back for another year of fun and excitement at the bottom of the social heap, kept tossing glances at the new kid that were part curiosity, part confusion, and part open hostility.  Best of all, the distraction meant they hadn’t spotted Kurt yet, so when the guy opened his mouth, Kurt took the easy road and stayed tucked just out of sight.

“I always forget what I hate the most about public school,” he said, probably to the hockey players and Kurt had to bite back a snort, “but now that I’m here I remember all too well.  It’s the _stench_ of mediocrity wafting in from all directions.”

And Kurt was too busy trying to figure out why this guy thought three oversized boys with mullets hanging out next to a dumpster were a good audience for his diatribe on mediocrity to hear what Chapman and his lackeys had to say to that, but he’s sure it was something devastatingly witty involving the word “stench,” because fifteen seconds later they were exchanging high fives and stumbling toward the school, and the new kid had disappeared into the dumpster.

Once he’d ascertained that there weren’t any more Letterman jackets hanging around the parking lot, Kurt made his way to the dumpster and peered in, fighting down a smirk when he found the guy gaping at the walls of the receptacle incredulously.

“Welcome to McKinley,” Kurt said, voice dry, and the guy’s eyes snapped up to look at him.  “I see you met the welcoming committee.”

The guy seemed to stare at him for a long moment before he blinked, took another sweeping look at his surroundings, and started trying to haul himself up. “What the hell _was_ that?”

“ _That_ was your first dumpster dive.”  The smirk he’d been fighting curled the ends of his mouth, and the guy, now standing, rolled his eyes.

“Yes, I got that, thank you. I suppose my real question was ‘why?’”

Kurt shrugged, stepping back to allow him to climb out, but he stayed where he was. “Because you look like you fell out of a prep school brochure? Because you used a five-syllable word in front of three people who still think a mullet is a valid lifestyle choice in 2010? Take your pick.”

He barked a half-amused laugh, shooting Kurt a quick, wry grin before holding out his hand. “So, are you going to help me out of this thing or not?”

“Are you sure you want to risk that?” Kurt asked, eyebrow raised. “There’s no telling how badly I could infect you with the mediocrity of the public school system with skin-to-skin contact.  Besides, you’ve got it easy your first time – it’s half-full, so you’re at a convenient height, _and_ they haven’t served a meal yet this year, so there’s no half-eaten food.”

“Why do I get the feeling you’ve done this before?” he asked, _still_ standing in the dumpster. Honestly, it wasn’t that difficult.

“Perhaps it’s your ability to follow a moderately complex grammatical structure? It’s not like I’m subtle.  Now just brace your hands on the edge and swing a leg over.  Do I need to google _The Little Engine That Could_ and read it to you?”

The new kid scoffed at him but did as he was told, landing a bit less than gracefully on the concrete.  “I refuse to be patronized by someone with a faux animal tail attached to the back of his pants.”

Kurt’s smirk briefly returned as he adjusted the strap of his bag on his shoulder and turned to walk away.  “Just as I refuse to accept fashion criticism from someone wearing a popped collar, and you, my newly-dumpstered friend, are wearing two.”

He’d only made it a handful of steps before he heard some quiet shuffling behind him, followed by quick footsteps, and then the new kid was walking in step with him, a strange smile curving his lips and a bag almost as nice as Kurt’s swinging from his shoulder.  “I’m Sebastian.  In case you were curious.”

“Oh, burning with it, truly,” Kurt returned with a small smile of his own. “I’m Kurt.”

“Well, Kurt,” Sebastian said, grinning wider, “I have two questions for you.”

Kurt stopped them just outside the door to the front lobby and turned to him, giving a short nod. “Shoot.”

“First, can you point me toward the main office?”

Kurt gestured straight through the door they were paused in front of.  “About ten feet that way. You honestly can’t miss it.”

“Great!” Sebastian took a step forward, pulling one of the doors open and ushering Kurt through ahead of him.  “Now second, and most important, what does a person have to do to get a date around here?”

Rather than laugh like he wanted to, and like Sebastian obviously expected him to, Kurt’s mind flashed on a pair of cheerleading uniforms and instead he spent a long moment considering Sebastian’s features, trying hard to ignore the pink that was probably flooding his cheeks.

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about.  I give you two class periods before they find you.”  Willing away his blush, Kurt turned away once again just as the first bell sounded.  “Have a good first day, Sebastian.”

As he walked away, he imagined he heard Sebastian respond, but ultimately decided he couldn’t have – after all, “Oh, I already did” wouldn’t have made any sense.

*

Having to rush to first meant Kurt didn’t see Mercedes until his locker break after second, which apparently worked just fine for her, as she sidled up next to him with her “you’ll never guess what I found out” face on.

He cast a sidelong glance at her as he gave his hair its midmorning hairspray boost.  “Baby girl, we’ve been here two hours, what could you possibly know already?”

“Never question my gossip skills, white boy. I pulled Office Assistant first period this semester, which means I got the first look at not one but _two_ new kids, both in our grade. And _damn_ , they’re cute, even though one of them needs a lesson on hair color treatments, stat, and the other needs to de-frat-boy like nobody I ever seen before.”

Kurt grinned at her in a way that had her leaning in closer.  “I picked Frat Boy out of the trash this morning.  With how quickly he made friends with the puckheads, my guess is that outfit isn’t long for this world. And what a tragedy that is.”

She let out a low whistle. “He’s been tossed already? He works fast, you gotta admit.”

Having successfully switched out his text books, Kurt pushed his locker door closed and turned to face her properly.  “Here’s hoping his gym clothes, when he inevitably has to change into them, don’t have poppable collars. I won’t be held responsible for my actions if they do.  His car and his bag are nice, so even if they were gifts, clearly _someone_ in his family has taste; he just needs to let them do all of his shopping.  Or let me do it.”

“Boy, tell me you ain’t already crushing on this dude.  We talked about this, like, last week.”

“Don’t worry, ‘Cedes, I remember the rule. ‘No crushing unless I’m sure the guy can crush back.’ But you know makeovers are like crack to me.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.  Now please tell me you have second lunch; if I get stuck with the Finchel show again I’m probably gonna end up cutting somebody.”

“I’ll be there.”  The bell rung, signaling he was almost late for History, and he planted a kiss on her cheek before taking off down the hall. “Later, boo!”

*

Kurt didn’t see Sebastian again until fourth period advanced French, when he slid into the chair next to Kurt’s, scooting it a couple inches closer than most people were comfortable with.  “You know, when you said they would find me, you could have told me I was going to get accosted by a cheerleader and her dead-eyed girlfriend wanting me to buy them second-rate Italian food.”

Kurt couldn’t quite hold back the laugh that bubbled up in his throat, and when he looked up Sebastian was grinning broadly at him.  “What’s wrong, not the kind of date you wanted?”

“Not quite.”  Sebastian leaned in a bit, little over a foot between them now, and Kurt shifted back instinctively, unused to the proximity.

“Well, if you’re looking for an opinion on the girls of this school, I’m afraid you’ve come to the wrong person.”

He laughed.  “Oh, I don’t think that’ll be necessary.”  He was still watching Kurt, and Kurt’s fingers curled tightly around the pencil in his hand.  Thankfully, before his mind could get away from him imagining what entirely improbable things Sebastian could have meant by that, Mademoiselle Erics walked in and called the class to order.

Kurt let out a relieved breath when Sebastian leaned away to pull a notebook out of his bag.  He needed to get ahold of himself, fast.  No matter what happened this year, he didn’t need another straight boy crush.  He only got one, and he’d used it up already.

“ _Good morning, class_ ,” their teacher said, smiling brightly. “ _I’m sure you’re all thrilled to be back. Did everyone have a good summer?_ ”

Looking around, Kurt saw a good portion of his classmates giving her a blank stare, but there were a couple half-hearted nods and one faux enthusiastic “Oui!”  He despaired of his generation sometimes.

Mademoiselle Erics looked more amused than anything as she continued, now in English.  “Most of you have had classes with me before, so you know how I run things.  Class will be held exclusively in French – today not included, since I am kind enough to offer one extra day for you to reform the gelatinous mess you have allowed your brains to become these past couple of months into something usable.  You will be assigned partners for the duration of this class.  You will take oral exams together, you may work on written homework together, but if you try to take written exams together, you will _fail_ together.  Understood?”

She looked to each student, waiting for nods, and when she reached Kurt he smiled at her.  She’d always been by far his favorite teacher at McKinley, and not just because he was already fluent in the subject matter.

“Seeing as this class is made up of several different ability levels, from French III to Advanced Placement French, we’ll spend the rest of this period determining exactly what each of you is capable of so that I can pair you up more effectively.  Seeing as there’s only one of you I haven’t met before, let’s start with you, Mr…Smythe!  Tell me a little about yourself, in French as well as you can.  Don’t be afraid to ask for words, and anyone who laughs at anyone else when there isn’t a joke being told gets chalk thrown at them. Okay? Okay.”  She smiled encouragingly at Sebastian, and he shot one last glance at Kurt before he began.

“ _My name is Sebastian Smythe, I’m a Junior, and this is my first day at McKinley.  I spent the last year living in Paris with my mother, and the year before that in a private boarding school with extremely ugly uniforms and students with no personality. I’m fluent in both French and Spanish, though I greatly prefer French. My favorite subjects are Math and literature, but I have no head for the natural sciences.  I’m not sure what else you would like for me to discuss, but if you ask me questions, I’ll be more than willing to answer._ ”  By the time he was done, Kurt was pretty sure his mouth was open, and the smirk Sebastian’s mouth curved into when he looked over only confirmed it.  Oh, this was not good. Not good at all.

Mademoiselle Erics looked equally shocked, but recovered herself well and smiled winningly. “Well, it looks like we’ve found Mr. Hummel’s partner.  Very good, Mr. Smythe!  See me after class and we’ll see if we can get your credit bumped up to Advanced Placement.  Now who’s next? Do I have volunteers?”

As she discovered that she didn’t, in fact, have volunteers and instead volunteered someone, Sebastian leaned back into Kurt’s space and whispered, “So which one’s Mr. Hummel?”

Kurt tried very hard not to go pink or wide-eyed with the renewed proximity, and instead stuck out his hand.  “Kurt Hummel, at your service.”

Sebastian looked almost delighted by this news, and Kurt took back every nice thing he’d ever said or thought about Mademoiselle Erics.  Clearly, she was an agent of evil.  “Is that so? My luck really _has_ turned around today.”

Hard-fought battle against his blush well and truly lost, Kurt returned the smile with a tight one of his own and busied himself with pulling out his phone and tapping a message to Mercedes.

**To: Mercedes Jones** (11:17) _S.O.S. I’m breaking the rule distract me please!_

**From: Mercedes Jones** (11:18) _Have u seen Rachel yet?_

**To: Mercedes Jones** (11:18) _No, thank God._

**From: Mercedes Jones** (11:20) _Can u tell me wat this monstrosity is and do u think wed get arrested if we burned down the shop that sold it??_  
[picture message attached]

**To: Mercedes Jones** (11:21) _Oh God KILL IT WITH FIRE_

*

Their performance in the courtyard on the fourth day of school had been just as successful as Kurt predicted it would be, which is to say it wasn’t at all.  By his count, the number of people who paid attention to them at all was a completely underwhelming three, and consisted of what looked like a Freshman girl, who probably just didn’t know better yet; the other transfer (judging solely by the hair); and Sebastian, who Kurt had caught watching him with the same delighted grin he’d had when he found out Kurt spoke French.

He didn’t really know what to do with that.

Actually, he didn’t know what to do with anything he’d learned about Sebastian so far – which, admittedly, wasn’t much.  They only had the one class together, and as of that point it hadn’t consisted of much conversation.  There had been a couple of times where Sebastian managed to catch him by his locker just long enough to say hello or toss out a compliment that, in the more perverted recesses of Kurt’s mind, could count as innuendo, and that wasn’t helping his sanity in the least.

He really needed to take Mercedes’ advice and just forget about this guy, _before_ his oratory skills and the promise of a witty conversationalist turned intrigue into an infatuation.

Which was much easier said than done when Sebastian cornered him just as he walked back into the building, intent on finding somewhere to fix his hair.

“You _sing_ ,” he said.

Kurt felt his cheeks warm, and seriously, this had to stop.  “I do. Not that you’d be able to tell from that performance, considering there’s maybe one person in our glee club capable of rapping and he is certainly not me.”

Sebastian took a step closer, far too close, then side-stepped so he could lean casually (attractively) against the wall in front of where Kurt was standing.  “How is every new thing I find out about you even better than the last?” he asked, and Kurt had no idea how to answer that.  Fortunately, he didn’t seem to need to, as Sebastian followed it with, “You should wear your hair like that all the time.”

He self-consciously raised a hand to pat at his deliberately messed-up hair, which he knew would only succeed in making it look worse.  “If you want to see it like this again, I’d recommend taking a picture, because it’s going right back where it belongs just as soon as I get…” he trailed off, shocked to see Sebastian pulling out his phone and aiming the camera lens right at him. “…to my hair spray. What are you doing?”

“Commemorating,” he said around a pleased smirk, and Kurt rolled his eyes.

“I don’t believe in violence, but if that is used for nefarious purposes, I have a friend who won’t hesitate to bust out your windshield.”

Sebastian leaned in just the tiniest bit closer, sliding his phone back into his pocket for safe-keeping.  “I suppose that depends on your definition of nefarious.”

Kurt gave an exasperated huff and stepped around Sebastian, moving in the direction of his locker once again.  “I’ll see you later, Sebastian.”

Once he got there, however, and had pulled out his hair supplies, he looked up to see that the other boy had followed him at a more sedate pace.  “Just for the record, Kurt,” he said, coming to a stop just beside Kurt’s open locker door, “when I asked you the other day what a person had to do to get a date around here, I meant a date with you.”

Kurt waited a good thirty seconds after Sebastian was gone, but he still almost slammed the door shut on his hand.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian comes to McKinley at the beginning of his Junior year, and he sees something he likes very much. Kurt is a bit more dubious. But only a bit.

Kurt wasn’t too proud to admit that he’d been avoiding Sebastian a little bit.  As much as it’s possible to avoid a person you see twice on a good (very good) day, which isn’t much – he’d be reluctant to even call it avoiding, but there are only a few things ducking behind Artie’s wheelchair in the middle of pushing him down the hall can be called, and “avoiding” is probably the nicest.

“Uh, Kurt?”  He looked away from where he’d been watching Sebastian pull his Chemistry book out of his locker to see Artie, upper body twisted around to check on him.  “You alright back there?”

“Fine,” he said, voice a bit higher than usual, and that was just so very convincing.  He cleared his throat and tried again.  “I’m fine.  I just…thought I saw a penny.  You know how superstitious I can be.”

Artie frowned and opened his mouth, but before he could respond Kurt saw Sebastian disappear around a corner and jumped back up. “Oh well, I guess I just imagined it.  Let’s get you to English, shall we?”

Artie was quiet for a long moment, but spoke up again just as they got to his classroom. “You sure you’re okay, bro?”

“Definitely,” Kurt assured him, too chipper.  “No problems whatsoever.”

*

It wasn’t that Kurt didn’t _want_ to speak to Sebastian. Honestly.

It was just that he had legitimately _no idea_ what was going to come out of his mouth if he didn’t have something prepared beforehand.

Not helping in the least was Sebastian himself, who, far from taking Kurt’s lack of response as a rejection, had simply starting whispering his compliments into Kurt’s ear during class. In French.  A couple of times, Kurt had had to physically bite the inside of his bottom lip to keep from saying “if you don’t shut up, I am going to put my mouth _on your mouth_.” Which didn’t exactly inspire confidence in his ability not to completely embarrass himself the next time he opened his mouth in front of Sebastian.

So it was good that everyone else around him seemed content to provide him with distractions.  From Rachel sending Sunshine to a crack den and Vocal Adrenaline’s subsequent poaching, to the fact that they’re no closer to being eligible to compete than they were when they found out Matt had transferred, to Karofsky’s renewed dedication to causing Kurt as much physical and emotional pain as he can without leaving punishable proof, to someone’s decision that glee club was the right forum for a discussion on dental hygiene, and now to Mr. Schuester’s utter and irrational refusal to let them sing Britney Spears, he’d barely had time to think about the fact that there was a really cute ostensibly gay boy who wanted to date him.

Really.

Okay, so perhaps the way he’d just snapped at Mr. Schue was a sign of the tension getting to him.  True, Mr. Schue was a sub-standard teacher on some of his better days and an ass on a regular basis, but in general, Kurt had always managed to save his harsher opinions for late-night rant sessions with Mercedes on Skype. 

So maybe, just maybe, he needed to deal with this Sebastian thing sooner rather than later. Preferably before he told Karofsky just where he could shove his Fury and ended up with a couple of broken ribs for his trouble.

*

Of course, sitting outside Figgins’ office, debating the many ways he could cleverly and faux-spontaneously begin a conversation, was just how Sebastian found him.

“Hey, tiger,” he said, and Kurt didn’t even have to look up at him to know that there was an amused smirk stretched across his lips.  “Do I even want to know how you ended up in the naughty kid chair?  Though if it involves you being naughty, I can’t see why I wouldn’t.”

Kurt tipped his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, hoping beyond hope that he was just hallucinating.  “Shouldn’t you be in class right now?  Imagine the humiliation if you failed one of your mediocre public school classes.”

“I’m never going to live that down with you, am I?” Sebastian chuckled, dropping into the chair next to Kurt’s. Of course.  “But no, sadly, I have a free period right now.  You’ll have to work a bit harder than that if you want to keep avoiding me.”  He nudged his shoulder against Kurt’s, and Kurt forced himself not to wince at being called out.

He tilted his head to the side and cracked an eye open so that Sebastian could see him roll it.  “Even if I have been, it doesn’t seem to have affected your perseverance in the least.”

Sebastian hummed his agreement, leaning his own head back and twisting it to the side so that they were eye-to-eye.  “You don’t know this about me yet, Kurtsie, but I always get what I want.”  Kurt’s eyes had both opened, and he could feel that they were wider than they should be, but he honestly didn’t think he could look away.  “And seeing as we’ve got a few shining minutes _all_ to ourselves, what I want is to know more about you. So we’re going to play Twenty Questions.”

Because he couldn’t trust his voice to be as derisive as he needed it to be, he responded by raising a disbelieving eyebrow, and Sebastian just laughed.  “Come on.  I’ll even let you go first.”

Kurt relented quickly, but made a show of rolling his eyes again.  Truth be told, he wanted to know more about Sebastian – as much as he could find out – even if it meant he had to talk about himself too.

“Fine. But we each get three passes.”  Sebastian was quick to agree, so Kurt began, asking one of the things that had been bothering him the most since they’d met.  “Okay, I have to know.  Why is someone who just spent a year in _Paris_ and who can’t stand public school enrolled _here_ of all places?  Why not private school?”

Sebastian just shrugged like he was expecting the question.  “My dad’s the State’s Attorney in Lima, and he prefers me close to home when I’m in the States.  Before I went to Paris, I went to the closest private school that met his standards, but Dalton was just… _the_ most soul-sucking school I’ve ever attended.  I couldn’t stand it.  So when I came back, he handed me a list of all the public schools in Lima and let me choose.”

“And you picked McKinley High?” Kurt asked, still not really understanding, and Sebastian laughed.

“I did. And the first person I met was you.  You’re not going to convince me I made the wrong choice.”

Kurt felt his cheeks warm and turned his head back to look at the ceiling, unable to look him in the eye when he said things like that. It was too much.  “Okay, your turn.”

“Ooh, okay, well,” he said, clearly pleased his plan was working, “you already know I live with my dad and my brother, and my mother lives in Paris, so what about you? Who makes up the Hummel household?”

“It’s just me and my dad.  Carole, my dad’s girlfriend, and her son nearly moved in with us last year, but it didn’t really work out.”  He didn’t look back at Sebastian, who seemed to sense he was encroaching on a raw topic and backed away from it.

“What about your mom?”

Kurt shrugged, his much less nonchalant than Sebastian’s had been.  “Car accident when I was eight.”

“I’m sorry, Kurt.”  Sebastian’s voice was quieter, softer than it had been, and Kurt shot him a quick, sad smile.

“Thanks.”  He took a deep breath, barely looking up as Mr. Schue finally walked past and into Figgins’ office.  “Okay, my turn again. How many languages do you speak?”

Somehow, in the course of their conversation, Sebastian had inched closer to him, because the way their knees suddenly pressed together nearly distracted him from the answer.  “Fluently, just the three you already know about.  Though I have picked up some Italian on trips with my mother.  Same question to you.”

Kurt swallowed. “Uh, three, though only if you take ‘speak’ loosely.  English, French, and ASL.”

“Sign language? Really? Does that mean you’re good with your hands?”

“I was in the accident that killed my mom,” Kurt said, and he could practically hear the smirk fall off of Sebastian’s face.  “I was only hearing at about 20% for six months afterward, and even though they didn’t think it was permanent and I was still managing to complete my school work, Dad hired a tutor to teach us both ASL, just in case.  I’m pretty sure he’s forgotten most of it, but I’ve kept up with it pretty well.”  He snorted lightly before he continued.  “Though I suppose, yes, that does mean I’m good with my hands.”

Mr. Schuester stuck his head back into the hallway, frowning briefly at where Sebastian and Kurt were sitting close, before waving Kurt into the office.  “Come on, Kurt.”

Kurt stood, sliding the strap of his bag back onto his shoulder, and turned to Sebastian only to find him holding out a phone – Kurt’s phone, the thieving bastard – and smiling. “Good luck avoiding me now, Kurtsie,” he whispered, before standing up and trotting off down the hallway toward the library, and Kurt couldn’t help but laugh, even as he stepped past Mr. Schue to get lectured on being disrespectful of authority.

*

“Toxic” was, without a doubt, the most inappropriate public performance they’d ever given, and seeing as their roster of public performances included “Push It,” in which he had smacked Finn in the ass and every other piece of choreography had involved some amount of pelvic thrusting, saying that “Toxic” was worse was saying a lot.

But having your teacher use his group of underage students in a sex-charged performance in a bid to win back his ex-girlfriend from her hot Dentist, then having the fire alarm pulled at the end definitely qualified.

Kurt himself wasn’t sure whether to be justifiably mortified, or triumphant that Mr. Schuester had finally given in, even if it was for the wrong reasons.  When he walked out of the gym to find Sebastian waiting for him, mouth a little open and eyes a little darker than usual, he decided to go for mortified.

“Uh, hi,” he greeted, smiling at Sebastian a little tremulously, utterly unsure of what to say.  “I suppose it’s too much to hope you didn’t see that?”

Sebastian reached out and plucked the hat from Kurt’s head, staring at it in something like awe before he turned the same look on Kurt.  “The logical part of my brain wants me to comment on the fact that your teacher just performed that with you,” he said, “but the rest keeps pointing out that if the fire alarm hadn’t gone off, I probably wouldn’t have taken my eyes off of you long enough to notice.”

Kurt tried to laugh that off, but he’d gone too breathless and it was completely inaudible.  He swallowed and cleared his throat, hoping it would help. “You – I mean. Really?”

“You really have no idea how sexy you are, do you?”  He laughed as well, and sounded the slightest bit breathless himself.  Kurt was dumbfounded.  “Kurt, I have never wanted to be an inanimate object as much as I wanted to be this hat.”

Carefully, Sebastian placed the hat back on Kurt’s head, and when it seemed he was satisfied with its placement, he swooped in to plant a lingering kiss on Kurt’s cheek.  Kurt leaned unconsciously into the feeling of lips on his skin, and he was a bit surprised he didn’t pass out, considering how hard he blushed.

As soon as he realized fully what had happened and _where_ , he whipped his head around to see who was looking at them, but mercifully no one was, and he let out a relieved breath.

Still standing close, Sebastian grinned at him.  “Considering they probably won’t let us back in before the end of eighth period, what do you say we wait until they let us go get our things and then go somewhere?  Do you drink coffee?”

Kurt fought hard to pull himself together, and by the time he answered, his voice came out steady and sure.  “More of a tea person, really.”

“Well, how about you let me take you to the Lima Bean and see if I can change your mind?  Ten bucks says I can find something you’ll _love_.”

Kurt took a moment to remember if he’d promised to help his dad out in the garage that afternoon, and newly sure that he hadn’t (unsure he’d say no even if he had), he nodded.  “Okay,” he said, and a second later, “but it’s not a date.  Not…not yet.”

Sebastian grinned brilliantly at him.  “I can work with that.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian comes to McKinley at the beginning of his Junior year, and he sees something he likes very much. Kurt is a bit more dubious. But only a bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I probably should have mentioned this with Ch. 1, but: I don't speak French. I am uncomfortable letting Google speak French for me. So, we're going to pretend! For all conversations that take place in French class, italics = French.

“I’m not missing something I look forward to all year for just another dinner.”

Kurt regretted his words even as he said them, but he honestly meant them.  He _did_ look forward to the Sing-Along Sound of Music all year, and this year he’d even considered hinting that Sebastian should come with him.  And although he knew the importance his father attributed to these Friday night dinners, especially now that he was trying his best to incorporate the Hudsons into the tradition, his relationship with Finn was no less estranged with the start of the new year and Finn’s reinstated status as a football player, so he couldn’t make himself feel too bad about missing another opportunity to have stilted conversations and his eye contact avoided.

“I gotta tell you Kurt, I’m real disappointed in you.”

But that definitely made the guilt gnaw at his gut.

*

Sebastian found him at his locker before French, leaning gracefully against the next locker over and fixing Kurt with a gaze much closer to bedroom eyes than anything he ever thought he’d see directed at him. Kurt swallowed a squeak.

“So, coffee was fun,” Sebastian said, like he hadn’t said it in the parking lot next to Kurt’s car directly afterwards or texted it to him late that night with a winking smile and a double-x.  No one had ever put this much effort into getting Kurt’s attention, or any effort at all really, and God, Kurt was so smitten.

“It was,” he agreed, closing his locker and letting Sebastian right himself before they took off down the hall together.  “I have to admit, though, I still prefer tea.”

“I suppose that means I’ll just have to keep trying.” He didn’t sound put out by this at all, and Kurt had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from sighing besottedly.  The eyeroll aimed at himself didn’t get held in so easily, but luckily Sebastian didn’t notice and think it was for him. “What do you say, today after school?”

Sliding into his chair behind their now customary table, Kurt shook his head as Sebastian scooted his own chair several inches closer.  “Not today, I’m afraid. I’ve already got plans.”

Sebastian smirked, eyebrows raised. “On a Friday night? Got a hot date you haven’t told me about?”

“Are you going to be jealous if I say yes?” Kurt teased, but before Sebastian could answer Mademoiselle Erics had come in and was calling the class to attention.

“ _Afternoon, everyone.  Seeing as it’s Friday and I have far too many papers to grade, we’re going to spend the period practicing our conversation skills! French only.  Help each other, look up words if you need to, but **no English**. Talk about anything you’d like, and have some fun with it! This is not meant to be torture. Yes? Good!_ ”

Kurt and Sebastian exchanged a grin and then picked up their former conversation, transitioning seamlessly into French as their classmates pulled out their textbooks and dictionaries.

“ _Terribly jealous.  Truly, I may never recover._ ” Sebastian’s hand went to his chest melodramatically.

“ _Such obvious flattery_ ,” Kurt scoffed, but he couldn’t fight his smile, and Sebastian’s grin morphed back into a smirk.

“ _What are these wonderful plans of yours, then? If I’m going to be jealous, I’ll need more details._ ”

“ _Well, I’m afraid it’s nothing particularly scandalous. My ‘hot date,’ and indeed she is, is with the amazing Julie Andrews._ ”

“The Sound of Music?” Sebastian guessed, and Kurt grinned brilliantly.

“ _Yes! They do a showing of it every year at the—_ ”

“Kurt?” His head swiveled around at the sound of Mr. Schuester’s voice, and his sad, sympathetic eyes made Kurt’s gut clench. “Can we talk to you outside for a minute?”

*

Ten minutes later, staring blankly at the back of the driver’s seat in Mr. Schuester’s car because they wouldn’t let him drive, Kurt barely registered Miss Pillsbury asking him if there was anyone, someone in his family or one of his friends at school, that he wanted her to call.

For a hysterical moment, Kurt’s mind flashed to the boy he’d just left behind in French class, but the thought disappeared and no others took its place.

“He is my family,” he finally answered her, and the rest of the ride to the hospital was made in silence.

*

He spent as much of the weekend as the doctors would allow him at the hospital, camped out by his father’s side.  He knew, deep down, that he should be doing more to take care of himself, or at the very least not ignoring his cell phone every time it vibrated at the bottom of his bag.

He knew he should probably call someone – his grandmother, who he almost never saw since his mom died, but who he knew would take him in in a heartbeat if…

Or Carole.  Carole would want to know, if she didn’t already.  She probably did, even though she worked in a different part of the hospital, but Kurt hadn’t seen her.  He hadn’t seen anyone since Mr. Schuester and Miss Pillsbury had left him that first evening after he’d assured them no less than ten times that yes, he would be okay on his own, and yes, he knew that they’d had his car brought to the hospital.

On Sunday night, he scrolled through his missed calls and texts for the first time.  He guessed that word had gotten out to most of the glee club, because he had at least three calls and five texts from each of the girls, another two calls from Artie, and about ten each from Mr. Schue and Miss Pillsbury.  Surpassing all of them was Sebastian, who’d left him eleven voice mails and twenty-three increasingly worried texts, even though he clearly wasn’t sure exactly what had happened.

Guilt spiked briefly in his chest, but fizzled out as he pulled on some sleep pants and one of his dad’s work shirts and fell into his bed.  He’d deal with everyone at school the next day.

*

Two years of consistent harassment in the halls of McKinley High had gifted Kurt with the ability to avoid people he didn’t want to see. And on Monday, he didn’t particularly want to see anyone.

He made it to French before he was faced with more than sad eyes across a classroom.  He really should have known he’d find Sebastian waiting for him outside their classroom door. No chance to escape.

Sebastian followed him into the room, waited patiently as Mademoiselle Erics pulled him into a long hug and whispered condolences into his ear, then lead him back to their table, unabashedly turning to face him the moment they were seated.  “What in the world is going on, Kurt? The doe-eyed guidance counselor comes in here looking like someone slaughtered a litter of puppies on her desk, then you drop off the face of the planet for three days?  I don’t generally like to admit things like this but I’ve been really fucking worried about you.”  When Kurt finally met his eyes, it looked like Sebastian was debating whether to hug him or just grab him by the shoulders and give him a good shake, so he reached out with a boldness he never would have felt normally and wrapped his hand around the one Sebastian had resting on the table.

“My dad had a heart attack,” he said, out loud for the first time, and his breath hitched at the back of his throat.  “He’s in a c-coma.  They don’t know if he’s going to wake up.”

Sebastian turned his hand in Kurt’s so that he could squeeze back, but said nothing for a long moment, watching him.  Finally, he asked, “What do you need?”

Kurt laughed humorlessly. “My father waking up would be nice, but I doubt even you can pull that off.”  Sebastian didn’t flinch.

“Where have you been staying?”

Kurt flashed him a strange look, uncomprehending.  “Home? Well, the hospital, but I’m still a minor so they kick me out at the end of visiting hours.”

Sebastian frowned.  “Is there any way I’m going to convince you to come stay with me and my dad?” Kurt was shaking his head before he even finished the question, but Sebastian forged on, undeterred. “We have three different guest rooms to choose from, and a huge kitchen that contains a wide variety of take-out menus.”

Despite himself, Kurt’s lips curved into a small smile, but he shook his head once more. “I’m not going to impose on you and your father, Sebastian.  Or your brother, no matter how much you insist that he would like me.”

“It’s not an imposition if you’re invited.  I could call my father’s office and have his assistant issue a formal invitation, if you’d prefer.”  He looked almost distressingly earnest, and Kurt had to look away before he did, or said, something stupid.

“I – I really shouldn’t. Besides, I learned to take care of myself a long time ago.  I’ll be fine for a few days.  But,” he said, squeezing Sebastian’s hand one last time before pulling away so that no one else would notice, “thank you. For the offer. You’re probably the only one who’ll even remember that my dad being in the hospital means I’ll be on my own.”

Sebastian didn’t seem placated by this in the least, but was forced to drop it as the class was called to order.  Kurt sighed in relief, and maybe a little disappointment.

*

Glee club went about as well as Kurt expected it to, considering Finn’s recent Come To Jesus…sandwich.

It wasn’t that he was unappreciative of their intentions. It was sweet that they were trying to offer him comfort the same way they would anyone else.  It was natural for them to want to offer him spiritual guidance.

But he had no interest in being guided, spiritually or otherwise, anywhere except back to his father’s bedside.  So when he left to finally eat something the next night and came back to find his father’s room filled with his _praying_ friends, he might have reacted badly.

He also might have been hurt that, other than Sebastian, no one had even really asked how he was handling being on his own, if he was sleeping (he wasn’t) or eating (barely).  The “unsaved” state of his soul was more important.

He’d said it to them once, and he’d say it over and over until they understood: He didn’t want a heavenly father.  He just wanted his real one back.

*

He’d be lying if he said that coming home one night to a fully re-stocked pantry, refrigerator, and freezer with a note on the front door that read _We only broke in a little bit. And you should probably consider a different hiding place for your spare key. Love, Seb & Andy _didn’t make him fall just a little bit in love.

*

It didn’t escape Kurt’s notice that the attitude Sebastian took with him wasn’t the one he took with everyone else.  Or anyone else, really.

Listening to him lay insults into Azimio for calling him a “fairy” when Kurt was too exhausted to do so himself almost had him identifying with Brittany.

Then he got the idea in his head that if Sebastian ever came to Glee and got into it with Santana, it would either end in murder or the most frightening friendship McKinley had ever seen and he was distracted for the rest of the afternoon.

Mostly, though, he was just glad Sebastian wasn’t around when Mercedes asked him to come to church with her, because the last thing he needed was for his could-be boyfriend and his best friend to hate each other.

Especially if…

But no, he wasn’t thinking about that. It had only been a week. There was still every chance that his dad would wake up.  He might not believe in God, but there was no one in this world Kurt had ever believed in more than Burt Hummel.

His dad would wake up.

He had to.

*

Feeling those fingers twitch beneath his own was the greatest moment of Kurt’s life.  Even as he was shuffled out of the way to make room for the doctors and nurses, he couldn’t help the tears of joy and relief that leaked from the corners of his eyes.

Barely registering his own movement, he pulled out his phone and fired off a message to the person he wanted most to share in his happiness; the person who’d been determined to take care of him when he was determined to take care of everything himself.

 **To: Sebastian Smythe** (5:27) _H_ _E’S AWAKE!_

*

Kurt spends the next four days like he has the last ten, as close to his dad as he can manage at any given moment. He’d even managed to convince his dad not to make him go to school the day after he’d woken up because there was no way he would have been able to concentrate on anything anyway.

The on-call nurse had had to tell him that visiting hours are over three times every night this week, and his dad was starting to give him the look Kurt had seen far too many times in his life that meant _I’m worried about you._   Which Kurt thought was ludicrous in this situation, and when his dad ordered him to leave and not come back for at least twenty-four hours, he was prepared to argue it to the death.

Until his dad asked the nurse to call security if he wasn’t out in two minutes.  And that, more than any medical report, was the best proof that Burt Hummel was going to be just fine. Eventually. With Kurt’s help, which he would be getting in spades, no matter how much he complained.

When Kurt got to the parking lot, there was a sleek black car parked next to his Nav with a guy in a suit and aviator shades lounging against the back bumper holding a sign with “Kurt Hummel” printed on it in block letters.  Kurt approached him slowly.

“I suppose there’s no point in pretending you don’t know that’s my car?”  The man turned in Kurt’s direction, glancing back at the Nav briefly.

“No, sir.”

Kurt considered his chances of muscling his way past this guy and into the Nav. They weren’t good.

“Are you kidnapping me, then?”

The guy’s lips quirked up into a smile. “If I must, sir. Though, if it helps, I do have parental consent.”  He pulled an iPhone identical to Kurt’s out of a pocket and dialed a number, putting it on speaker as it rang.

“Get in the damn car, Kurt,” his dad’s amused voice sounded, followed by a click as the call disconnected.

“I…okay. Do I at least get to know where I’m going?”  Kurt was utterly confused.  What in the world was his dad thinking with this?  Did he hire a guard to make sure Kurt wouldn’t try to leave the house before the 24 hours was up? That was a little excessive, wasn’t it?

“Of course you do,” his possible body guard said, steering him into the back seat of the black car.  “When we get there.”

Well, of course.

*

Kurt wasn’t sure how long they’d been driving when Alex finally pulled them into a parking lot, but it was starting to get dark.  Climbing out of the backseat, he found himself standing in front of what had to be the nicest hotel and spa he’d ever seen.

There was no way his father was behind this.

Alex stepped up beside him, a key card between his fingers that he offered to Kurt. “Your room key. You’re in room 316 for the next two nights, and I’ll be here first thing Sunday morning to bring you back to the hospital, no sooner.  Your bags and itinerary are upstairs already, your dinner should be arriving in fifteen minutes, and if there’s anything he forgot, just let someone at the hotel know because they’re being paid handsomely to get it for you.  Enjoy!”  Kurt didn’t even realize he’d been moving away until the last was punctuated with a slamming car door and the black car driving off.

Whoever was behind this, Kurt couldn’t help but be grudgingly impressed.

*

The mystery didn’t remain one for very long once Kurt got to his room, because there was a letter attached to the front of his itinerary (manicure, pedicure, massage, _so_ many skin treatments – Kurt kind of wanted to cry again):

_Dear Kurt,_

_Since you refused to let me help you, I went over your head. Hopefully I’ve packed everything you’ll need – your father helped as much as he could, and I think he had your friend with the car name as backup. Anyway, if anything’s missing, just call the front desk and they’ll get it for you._

_Yes, all of this is paid for.  No, I will not accept your money if you attempt to pay me back.  I’ve told your father the same thing._

_I’m hoping you won’t be too angry with me for surprising you, but either way I’ll be wearing extra padding when you see me on Monday. Though I can only imagine you’re incredibly sexy when you’re angry._

_Sebastian_

“Lunatic,” Kurt whispered, staring down at the paper and then around the extremely nice hotel room in awe.

When his dinner arrived and was revealed to be the most delicious-looking vegetarian lasagna he’d ever seen that he didn’t also cook, he pulled out his phone and texted Sebastian the same sentiment.

*

Pulling into the McKinley High parking lot on Monday morning, Kurt was more relaxed than he could ever remember being.  The tension that had been building between his shoulder blades for months had melted away.

Sebastian was waiting for him next to his locker, and true to his word, he seemed to be wearing a couple extra layers.  Kurt laughed and grabbed onto the topmost layer, pulling his crazy benefactor into a secluded alcove and wrapping his arms around him.  Tentatively, and then more boldly as he realized it wasn’t a ruse that was going to end in violence, Sebastian hugged him back.

“You’re a fucking lunatic,” Kurt said emphatically into his shoulder, and Sebastian laughed at the unexpected language. “You’re also amazing. Thank you.”

He could hear every inch of Sebastian’s smug grin when he replied, “No problem, babe.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian comes to McKinley at the beginning of his Junior year, and he sees something he likes very much. Kurt is a bit more dubious. But only a bit.

Thirty seconds after the last bell of the day declared them free, Kurt rounded the corner to his locker to find Sebastian already there waiting for him, and a smile spread across his lips unbidden.  Twisting the lock and pulling it away, Kurt made short work of switching out his books for the ones he would need to complete his homework.

“You know, if I didn’t know any better, I might think you were stalking me.  Or perhaps the lovely lady whose locker you’re currently leaning on? Though I don’t think her boyfriend would approve.”  Sebastian’s expression was predictably amused when Kurt glanced up.

“Well,” Sebastian straightened and backed up a step, “I could always stop.  If it’s making you _that_ uncomfortable.”

“No!” Kurt blushed and turned to fix his bangs in the mirror affixed to his door. “I mean, no, that’s – I don’t think that will be necessary.”

Sebastian’s smirk was so wide, Kurt wouldn’t be surprised if his cheeks ached.  “Good to know. I have much greater peace of mind asking you to come get coffee with me, then. Unless,” he added, the smirk shrinking and one eyebrow lifted high, something different in his voice, “you already have plans.”

Kurt closed his locker and scoffed, setting their pace as they walked out of the building. “Who would I have plans with? The garage is closed right now, Carole’s at home with my dad until at least 4, Mercedes has some family thing she has to get ready for, and Tina’s been all over Mike since before school started. Believe me when I say I’m a free agent.”

Sebastian shrugged beside him, almost too casually to be casual. Kurt narrowed his eyes. “Thought you might be hanging out with Blondie. Or should I say _Bottle_ Blondie; you could see that dye job from space.”

“Oh, I know! He tried to tell me it wasn’t dyed, but…wait a minute.”  Something perversely delighted welled up in Kurt’s chest and his next step was more of a skip. “Was that _jealousy_ , Mr. Smythe?” Sebastian’s answering scoff was about as convincing as his shrug had been. “Oh, that is _adorable_. But you have no reason to be jealous.”

He tried to play it off, but there was a definite lessening of tension in Sebastian’s shoulders and really, this might just be the best day of Kurt’s _life_.  “I was just trying to determine if I needed to start judging you for your taste in men as well as your clothing choices, but you can call it whatever you want.”

Kurt hummed. “You like my clothes, don’t lie to me. And I’ll be honest with you; any type of romantic relationship between myself and Sam Evans would be a non-starter, because I would insist we spend our first date teaching him proper hair maintenance techniques. I’ll bet you anything his shampoo isn’t for color treated hair.”

As they reached the parking lot, Sebastian tossed him a look of fond exasperation that somehow managed not to be condescending and threw a faux-casual arm across Kurt’s shoulders.  He walked Kurt all the way to the Nav that way, completely ignoring the side-eyed glances aimed their way.  “So, how about that coffee? I think I’ve got you figured out this time.”

*

“Have you decided who you’re going to do the duet with?”  Kurt raised an eyebrow at Mercedes through his webcam, running a file along his nails.  This was technically their nightly Skype date to “help each other with our Math homework,” and while their textbooks were both open, neither of them paid any attention.

“Well, you _know_ Tina’s gonna go with Mike, especially with Matt gone, Finchel’s a given and I wouldn’t want to work with either of them anyway, and Santana and Brittany are just as bad.  Maybe I’ll ask Artie. We _always_ kill it together.”  Mercedes, also with a nail file, pointed hers at him. “And how’s it going with the new kid? Still think he’s on Team Gay?”

Kurt shrugged. “I’m willing to admit I might have been wrong about that. He didn’t get a single one of my musical references. Very disappointing.  Though he’ll never convince me that his hair is naturally that color.”

She leaned in toward her screen, as if expecting juicy gossip.  Things between them had been weird for a while after his trip to her church, but they were starting to get back to normal, all mention of religion avoided completely. Kurt was grateful. “Crushworthy, though?”

Kurt considered it for a moment.  “For me? No. Too blond, even if it is from a bottle, and the likelihood we’d find much in common seems low, and that’s if I’m being generous.  But for you? Most definitely.  You deserve that kind of arm candy, and anyway you heard that joke he made today. A Cheerio gets to him first, she’ll rip his dorky little self to shreds.”

“You really think he’d go for me?”  She sounded uncharacteristically self-conscious, and he hated that she could get so down on herself when it came to boys.

“I think he would be crazy not to.  Honestly, if he does swing your way, he couldn’t do better.”

Mercedes didn’t look convinced. “I still think you’re Team Crazy, but…maybe I’ll give it a shot.”  Kurt grinned brightly and she shook her head, but grinned back.  “Now, are you ever going to tell me why I had to help your dad pack a bag for you?  He just kept telling me it was some sort of surprise.”

“Oh, Mercedes, I have _got_ to take you to this spa with me.  Everything about it was so completely amazing.  It’s only been two weeks, and I’m already having dreams about going back…”

*

Kurt’s high from getting Sam to agree to do the duet competition with him and Sebastian’s subsequent jealousy steadily fell apart over the next couple of days.  Finn’s hurtful comments in the cafeteria about how he doesn’t understand that no means no and doesn’t care about the team formed an ache deep in Kurt’s chest, and the conversation with his father didn’t go much better.

Eventually, he thought his dad had understood that he didn’t even _like_ Sam that way, that he’d only been trying to be nice to a new guy he thought might be gay because he knew what it was like to be gay in Lima, and that there was Sebastian in the picture now, even if what they were didn’t actually have a name or applicable Facebook status.  But no matter how logical his argument seemed, he couldn’t get their words out of his head and the ache was building, gnawing at his insides like guilt that he wasn’t even sure he should be feeling.

When word got to him that Sam had already been slushied just for joining Glee, Kurt’s mind was made up.  He went in search of Sam during free period, and when Mike told him that he was probably in the locker room, Kurt stepped straight in without thinking.

Only to be met with Sam in the middle of a shower. Naked.

He probably shouldn’t tell Sebastian about this.

He cleared his throat, carefully keeping his eyes above shoulder level.  When Sam turned and blinked curiously at him, he smiled awkwardly. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna go all Shawshank on you.”

Sam turned back to the wall, like he wasn’t really sure where to look. “This is kinda weird.  Guys don’t usually…talk to each other in here.”

“Well, this can’t wait.”  The last thing he needed was to lose his determination or suffer through another conversation with Finn about how much he resembled a potential rapist. “I’m setting you free.  You can do your duet with someone else in Glee.  Someone the world deems…more appropriate.”

“Did I do something to offend you?” Sam asked, and of course he was endearingly confused.  In some other reality, Kurt figured, he and Sam Evans could have been good friends. Maybe a reality where Kurt got to grow up in New York or he didn’t have a step-brother-to-be whose priorities were his mother, his penis, and his reputation in varying orders.

“No! No, I – it’s not you, it’s me. You’ve been honorable, actually. And I wish you the best. But I realized I need to sing with someone who matches my passion and talent level.”  Among other things. Kurt also needed not to alienate anyone else, or be the inadvertent cause of someone else’s misery.  If no one else had to know what it was like to have every inch of their back covered in locker-shaped bruises, he was okay with taking one for the team.

“Who’s that?” Sam asked, mouth quirking up a little bit in a smile, but Kurt just looked away mysteriously.  It was already going to be strange, doing a duet by himself; he didn’t need to start giving it away before he’d figured out the logistics.

Spotting Sam’s shampoo and unable to resist, mostly because he’d totally been right when he guessed that Sam would be using the wrong kind, he said, “You know, they make special shampoo for color treated hair.”  With that parting shot, he turned to take his leave.

“I don’t dye my hair,” Sam called out behind him, and Kurt responded with a dismissive ‘mmhmm.’ “Hey, Kurt, wait a second dude.”

Kurt turned back to him, once again having to be very careful to keep his eyes above shoulder level. Really, whoever designed these showers was either very impractical or very perverted.

“I was just wondering.  There’s this guy in my Chem class, Sebastian. He’s your boyfriend, right?”  Kurt could feel his eyes widen dramatically and Sam hurried on. “I’m not gonna, like, out him or anything.  I went to an all-boys school; I get it, bad shit can happen. But, like, after you asked me about the duet he was looking at me kinda like he wanted to kick my ass.”

That same delighted feeling from the other day blossomed in his chest, a bit dulled by the ache but there nonetheless. “He’s my, um. We don’t really have a label, yet. Hopefully soon, but, anyway. Yes, he might have mentioned something about how jealous he totally wasn’t that I was making plans with you.”  Kurt smirked, and it made Sam laugh.

“Well, if you could convince him that I’m not trying to steal his man, or whatever, that’d be great. The last thing I need is a lab partner who hates me and has access to chemicals. Not that you’re not attractive, for a dude, but I really prefer chicks.” Kurt rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help the amusement that still showed on his face.

“I’ll see what I can do, Sam I Am.” With a smile and a short wave, Kurt finally made his way out of the locker room.  Maybe, one day, he and Sam really could manage to be friends.  If there was anything Kurt wanted in high school as much as he wanted a boyfriend, it was a straight male friend he didn’t always have to worry about making uncomfortable.

*

By lunch the next day, pretty much everyone in Glee had heard that he was minus one duet partner.  After the third time someone tried to get him to talk about it, he decided he’d be better off working on his performance somewhere very few people at McKinley were likely to find him: the library.  Unfortunately, one of those very few people just happened to be the one who’d been trying to get him to talk ever since his post-Finn depression set in.

He was just scribbling out some notes about choreography – he’d already asked Mike, Brittany, and some of the friendlier Cheerios to help out – when the chair beside his was pulled out, Sebastian dropping into it.

“You know,” he said, “for someone so adept at standing out, you are also annoyingly proficient at avoidance.”

Kurt looked over at him shyly, letting his writing slow to a stop and rubbing his fingers idly over the rubber grip of his pencil.  “Do you think I’m predatory?”

Sebastian’s brow furrowed in genuine confusion. “ _What?_ Kurt, babe, no. Why would you even ask that?”

Kurt shrugged. “I mean…I know I’m pushy. And determined to the point where it can be misinterpreted as something else.  But I never wondered if people see me as a future Mr. Ryerson until this week.”

“Okay,” Sebastian said slowly.  He swung his legs up so that his feet were resting in the chair opposite Kurt’s and their knees were touching. “I don’t know who Mr. Ryerson is, but I’m going to make some assumptions based on context, and I’d like to point out that if either of us was going to be termed predatory, it certainly wouldn’t be you.”  He reached out and pointedly took Kurt’s hand, twining their fingers together.  “In the entire time I’ve known you, you’ve initiated physical contact with me _maybe_ twice – and I count both of those times as personal victories – whereas we are touching two places right now, and I initiated both of them.  If this were a competition, I would have caught up with you in the past two minutes alone.”

Kurt could practically feel the ache and the worry that went with it melting into a puddle of goo in his chest.  For all that he’d told Sam and his father that he and Sebastian weren’t technically together yet, he could already tell that he was completely gone over this boy.

“I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me who made you feel this way so that I can accidentally run them over in the parking lot?”  He sounded almost hopeful, and Kurt couldn’t help but laugh.

“I’m afraid not.”  Sebastian sighed in mock frustration.

“Then you should at least tell me what you were concentrating on so hard when I got here.  I almost didn’t want to disturb you – you’re super hot when you’re focused.”  Kurt felt his face flush with the compliment and wondered if he’d ever get used to someone finding him attractive.

“Choreographing my duet.  For some reason I told Mr. Schuester that I could have it ready by tomorrow. My only saving grace is that I’m working mostly with Cheerios, and say whatever you want about their intelligence, they can pick up a full set of choreography in two run-throughs or less every time.” It went without saying that the ones who couldn’t were immediately kicked off the squad.

“Shouldn’t you and Bottle Blondie be doing that together?” Sebastian asked, in that same slightly off tone he had every time Sam came up. Kurt might have neglected to mention that they weren’t partners anymore that morning or during French just because he liked hearing it.  “Wouldn’t want to over-estimate his skill set.”

“Oh,” Kurt said, “I didn’t tell you? Sam’s not my partner anymore.”  Sebastian looked almost triumphant for a second before he seemed to put the first part of the conversation together with this revelation and his eyes narrowed. Kurt rushed on. “I had to let him go.  He just didn’t have the passion to make a good duet partner for someone like me.”

He wasn’t entirely convinced, Kurt could tell, but he let it slide easily enough.  “Then who have you replaced him with? One of the Cheerios, I’m guessing?”

Kurt gave him a somewhat awkward smile.  “I haven’t. Replaced him.  Puckerman being incarcerated left us with an odd number and Sam asked Quinn to sing with him pretty quickly, so I’m left with the only member of Glee Club that matches my level of passion and talent.”

“You?” Sebastian guessed, and Kurt nodded.

“Me. I may not stand a chance of winning, especially now, but I never pass up the chance to perform.”

“I just don’t understand the logic,” Sebastian said. His thumb had started to rub circles into that back of Kurt’s hand where they were still connected, and Kurt wondered if he even realized it was happening. “Why would your teacher have you do a duet competition when someone would automatically get left out?”

“Trying to understand anything that happens in Glee starts with abandoning logic,” Kurt said dryly. “I’m fully convinced our weekly assignments – which we do in lieu of actually preparing for competitions, I should add – are based solely on whatever Mr. Schue last talked about with Miss Pillsbury.  Though they haven’t been talking much since she hooked up with her dentist, so perhaps he Googled ‘how to least effectively lead a high school show choir to victory.’”

Sebastian laughed loudly, head falling back, and earned them a harsh “Shhh!” from the librarian.  “Is the prize at least something worth winning?” he asked once he’d stifled his amusement.

“A free dinner for two at Breadstix.  Which, on a high school budget in Lima, is about as good as it gets.”  He’d never had much of an opinion on Breadstix one way or another, seeing as the only time he’d eaten there he’d been too distracted by his father’s and Finn’s male bonding to concentrate on the food, but the way everyone else talked about it made it seem like gourmet instead of Americanized Italian food.

Sebastian scoffed incredulously.  “All of that drama is over a gift certificate to Breadstix?  I thought those girls who cornered me on my first day just had bad taste. I didn’t know it was an epidemic.”  He looked at Kurt and tilted his head thoughtfully. “What would you say to a better offer?”

Kurt raised an intrigued eyebrow. “What kind of offer?”

“The kind where I sneak into the auditorium tomorrow to watch you blow all of them away, then you let me take you out on a real date for food that would make the chefs at Breadstix weep tears of inadequacy into their crates of flash-frozen bread twigs.”  Sebastian was grinning at him like he knew all too well there was no way he was going to say no.

Which, there wasn’t, but Kurt couldn’t help frowning slightly.  “Sebastian, you can’t keep throwing money around like this for me.  I’m really not-”

“Worth it? Yes you are. No, don’t argue with me. Kurt, my credit card has a five-thousand dollar daily limit, and I get twice that dumped into my bank account at the beginning of every month.  It’s well within my abilities to spoil whomever I’d like, and I’ve never wanted to more than I do with you.”

Kurt nodded mutely, a little overwhelmed.  “It has to be Saturday night, and if we go out again, you have to let me pay for something eventually.”  Sebastian looked at him a little shrewdly, then acquiesced.

“As long as you promise in advance not to complain about how much your Christmas present costs, you’ve got yourself a deal.”

They stayed right there until sixth period started, talking about anything and everything, never letting go of each other’s hands.  When he realized, later, how casually Sebastian had mentioned Christmas like it was a foregone conclusion that they’d still at least be friends by that point, it made his heart soar.

*

Kurt was in the middle of teasing Sebastian about how his fellow Glee Clubbers weren’t the only ones blown away by his performance of Le Jazz Hot (which he was carefully not denying) when Rachel found him, smiling brightly up at him the side opposite Sebastian.

“I really enjoyed your performance today, Kurt.  Putting your versatility on display in a show-stopping one-man number was such a creative take on the assignment. I’m just upset I didn’t think of it myself!” Kurt looked over to see Sebastian staring at her wide-eyed and realized this must be his first direct Berry exposure.  He barely bit back a laugh.

“I’m a little disappointed myself.  Perhaps if you had, it would have spared all of us that train wreck you and Finn played out.”  Sebastian chuckled behind him – that had been one of the things they’d discussed the afternoon before, and he admitted he almost wished he’d been there to see it.

“Yes, well,” Rachel sniffed, then seemed to notice Sebastian for the first time. “Who are you?”

Smirk in place, Sebastian stepped forward with his hand outstretched. Rachel hesitantly shook it. “I’m Mr. Hummel’s agent, and I’m afraid the demands on his time this afternoon are extensive, so we’ll have to cut this conversation short. Have a nice day!”  Throwing that same faux-casual arm around Kurt’s shoulders, he lead them away from a completely dumbfounded Rachel, and Kurt barely held himself together long enough to make it around the corner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before any of you worry, Happy Days/Get Happy DOES happen. Timing-wise, though, it would happen after their date, which is going in chapter 5. So there's a tiny bit of episode spill-over, but I promise I've got it handled.


End file.
